


Anniversary

by Anacrea



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12277134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anacrea/pseuds/Anacrea
Summary: Enjolras considers how things have changed in only a year, and what he finds important.





	Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yet_he_was_intrepid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yet_he_was_intrepid/gifts).



Wrapping up for the evening and readying himself to leave rarely differed from the established pattern. A few of their compatriots would depart together, to carry on drinking or playing games. The more sensible of them would beg the excuse of finding their way to bed at a reasonable hour. Enjolras would exchange a few words with his friends before they left, arrange following up on some point or another, and then return home for the sleep he needed as dearly as any of them. 

Enjolras was nearly on his way out when he was startled by a touch at his arm. Turning sharply, he spotted Combeferre, who looked surprised and apologetic, and though Enjolras relaxed immediately, his friend quickly pulled away nonetheless.

“Wait, Enjolras, pardon me. Are you in such a hurry this evening?” he asked.

“Not particularly. I’m here for whatever you need from me.” Though he had tasks to attend to the following morning, time spent with Combeferre was harder to come by than he liked, and worth the later evening. 

“It’s really nothing urgent, but if you do have a few moments, will you walk with me for a bit?”

Nodding his assent, Enjolras waited for Combeferre to stand and take his arm before exiting the cafe with him. They were silent for some time, not choosing any one path but nevertheless finding themselves in step with one another, an easy rhythm of motion that Enjolras found rather comforting.

It had not been so long ago that they had heated arguments together. Yet without realizing it and without any sudden change, he found that he could not consider Combeferre now anything less than his most intimate friend. He regarded him openly with warmth, trust and admiration, and found the same in the expression that looked back at him. Now, when Combeferre shifted his path to press a little closer, Enjolras could only smile, the sapling of happiness unfurling its leaves within his chest in a way that was purely unique to Combeferre. 

“It’s growing chilly in the evenings, isn’t it?” he asked, acknowledging the contact without naming it directly, as he released Combeferre’s arm and placed his own arm around his back instead. 

“Yes, so I won’t keep you out long,” Combeferre said, coming to a stop over the bridge and turning to look out over the water, which had grown dark, and then up at the stars. 

Enjolras followed his gaze for a moment, almost idly, and wondered what Combeferre, who surely knew the position of every star in the sky, saw when he looked up at them now. “I do have an apartment to myself, now,” he said, dropping his gaze to look back over at Combeferre, “and you are as welcome there as I. So, the cold is no excuse for a lack of closeness. Quite the contrary, and I am not so jealous of my time that I wouldn’t rather share it with you.”

Combeferre turned himself in Enjolras’s arms to make eye contact with him, and for a moment Enjolras couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being assessed for something. “I’ll take you up on that offer,” he said with a smile, “if not tonight. Tonight, I only wanted to point out that it’s been a year since we were first introduced to one another, last fall.”

“Has it?” Enjolras realized with some surprise that Combeferre was right, though he hadn’t kept track of the days for himself.

“It has.” Combeferre looked at him solemnly for a moment, and then cast his gaze downwards. There was more to this, he sensed, and he alarmed himself with the strength of his reaction at even the idea that there was some trouble, or that Combeferre may be leaving. Before he could speak and urge him on, Combeferre drew in a deep breath and grasped his hand, looking into his eyes and speaking fervently. “Enjolras, this has truly been the most transformative year of my life. Meeting you has changed everything for me. You’ve profoundly altered how I think about who I am, and what I value -- in my politics, yes, but also in career, and more than that besides. Yet it’s as though things have become more natural in the change. That they’ve settled into the way they ought to be. That I have changed to become more like myself, not less. And most natural of all, in my opinion, is this partnership that has formed between us.”

“I have not had an intimate friendship before yours,” said Enjolras, a little stunned, but drawing closer to embrace him wholeheartedly and swallow the feelings of relief and joy. He trembled slightly, but lifted his head to speak with the same solemnity. “I know now it is possible for two men to share one spirit, and I could not be happier that I share yours. To know you is to know myself better.”

A moment of silence passed between them again, this one much more peaceful. Enjolras listened to Combeferre’s breath against the night air, until it quieted, just before he spoke again. “That’s all I brought you here to say. It felt imperative to me that you know my sentiments. It makes me happier still to know that you share them. And I am looking forward to another year spent becoming more myself with you.”

Enjolras lifted his head, placing a hand on Combeferre’s shoulder, and shook his head, smiling widely. “A year?” he asked. “I will settle for nothing less than a life by your side, my friend.” 

The shadow of a kiss on his cheek was a promise made, one that Enjolras returned by clasping Combeferre’s hand tightly. There was no question that he was understood. There rarely was, anymore, with Combeferre.

“I won’t keep you any longer,” said Combeferre, disentangling them. “But I’ll see you next week, if not before then. And certainly after then, for the rest of our future together. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

When Enjolras returned home and wrapped himself in his blankets, he drifted off to sleep to thoughts of that future – a future entwined with love.


End file.
